


Hesitant Alien

by urbabygirl



Category: My Chemical Romance, Paramore
Genre: Asshole Frank Iero, Dom/sub, Love/Hate, M/M, Shy Gerard, gerard is super cute in this though, i dont really know what this is, just read it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:42:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urbabygirl/pseuds/urbabygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man doesn’t appear to be someone he’s met before, or remembers seeing at the party which only feeds his apprehension if you acknowledge that this is a complete stranger. </p><p>Not just a stranger, but a male stranger with a dainty face and long black eyelashes which occasionally brush his cheek when he frowns at his dreams. Frank frowns back at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. End of September, Start of a new chapter

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic so u know enjoy pls soz if it sucks but i aint no david cameron

 

Every ten seconds he glances at the clock impatiently, waiting for the numbers to hit 3:00, signalling the end of a long school day. Throughout the lesson he’d been texting Hayley who sits across from him in the English room, asking for her answers to the impossible questions on the board – which she mostly just replied to with angry emojis.

It’s not like he can help being awful at English, he just is. The useless amount of words within these stupid books the teachers make them read is unbelievable, if Frank turned around and started talking like William Shakespeare someone would call him a therapist.

The only reason Frank has managed to get through the week is with the knowledge that it’s the end of term and with that only comes great things, such as Bob’s house party tonight which he’s holding in celebration of their freedom.

The English teachers babble is sharply cut off by the ringing of the bell, students sprinting for an exit in all directions in a bid to escape before she can issue a bundle of homework for over the summer holidays. Sighing dejectedly, the teacher collects her ugly side bag and heads out the classroom, leaving only myself and Hayley as I wait for her to cram all the unnecessary amount of nerd books into her bag.

Rolling my eyes at her, I pull out my phone to text back the girl from last night called – um, well, she’s called –

“How’s it going with Daisy?” Hayley inquires, leaning over my shoulder to try and decipher what my text reads “none of your business” I answer moving my phone out of her eye line.

“Fine, whatever” she says turning around and looking uninterested. But quickly spins back round so she’s facing me, knocking my phone out of my hand unexpectedly and reading my text aloud.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think this is going to work out, I’m just not looking for a serious relationship right now” she waves the phone in front his face, frowning “girls are fragile Frank! You can’t treat them like this, it’s so demeaning”.

Placing a hand on his hip he rolls his eyes “honestly Hayley, I will believe that when you start showing a fragile side” he reasons considering she almost punched him in the face whilst grabbing his phone. 

Her frown simply deepens “this is the last time I set you up with one of my friends” she answers as he takes back his phone, thrusting it back into his pocket they start walking out towards the school gates.

Frank could hardly say he felt any sympathy for Daisy – the girl should’ve seen it coming considering she emptied a box of his pop tarts the morning after. And besides, everyone knows that for a party like Bob’s you have to be single, no guy would miss up the opportunity of older girls looking for one night stands before they leave for university.

Throwing his arm across Hayley’s shoulder, Frank grins “still willing to cut my hair later? I mean you are brilliant at it after all” he compliments.

Knowing Franks complimenting is a lame attempt to stop her disapproving glares, she runs her hand through his Mohawk and hums “the sides definitely need trimming” she answers in agreement.

“You’re the best babygirl” he smiles pressing a kiss to her cheek knowing he’s been forgiven. Hearing a gruff voice from behind them stating that he should get his own girlfriend, he shuffles away slightly guessing it’s the over-protective boyfriend Chad.

“Yeah Hayley, get your own girlfriend” he reiterates.

Snorting at Frank, Chad begins talking to Hayley about dumb couple stuff as they walk to the car park to locate where Frank may or may not have parked his chunk of metal this morning. Due to Franks exhausted brain it took them at least fifteen minutes longer than usual to find it, and then another ten minutes while Chad kissed Hayley goodbye and Frank fake retched while they did so.

After throwing their stuff in the car, he drives them to his house, or more of a shed to be exact. By this he didn’t mean his parents locked him in the shed like some Harry Potter shit, he meant that he legitimately lived in a brick built shed. You see, Frank and his parents didn’t exactly see eye to eye the majority of the time which inevitably escalated once Frank turned 17 and was hit by testosterone.

 It’s not like Frank hates his parents or vice versa, it’s just easier this way for both sides, preventing them from falling out massively and actually improving their relationship now that Franks mess was out their way and his parents whining wasn’t a constant threat. Not to mention how cool the shed is now that his parents extended it, installing heating and electric, giving him his own space which was frequently occupied with one girl or another. Besides, by renting out Frank’s room his parents received extra cash; it just works.

Pulling up to said house he opens the side gate for them to go through, heading towards the back of the moderately sized garden. Turning to Hayley he passes her his worn out black bag to hold as he tries to open the rusty door, resulting to kicking it open as Hayley helpfully remarks that he should really get that fixed.

It’s a routine they always have, getting back from school and going straight to his to either get ready for the night out or sometimes just to watch movies all night. Nevertheless, he can’t pinpoint a day that Hayley isn’t at his house, though of course he doesn’t mind, she’s like a brother to him.

Once he tried to tell her this, but she just informed him that she’s a girl not a boy and to stop being, as she put it, “an annoying lil shit”. He didn’t mean to say it in a rude manner. He realises her gender and quite honestly thinks her the most beautiful woman he’s ever encountered, which is a compliment is you take into account the expanse of beautiful women dated by Frank.

Straight away he collapses onto the sofa bed sighing dejectedly and giving himself a mental pat on the back for managing to survive through the term.

Switching on the small TV he props his head up on his hand, watching intently as Patrick from Spongebob hits himself on the leg with a hammer, only acutely aware of Hayley talking to him. Though, he gives her his full attention when she hands him a poptart from his recently bought box that he had to purchase after _the Daisy incident_.

“Want me to do your hair now?” she asks looking up at him from where she’s slumped down against the couch.

Agreeing, they move into the dingy bathroom as Hayley gestures for Frank to sit on the side of the bathtub. Not even bothering to ask what he wants done, knowing decisions are best left up to her she begins trimming his Mohawk, putting a red hair dye on the sides over the previously yellowish blonde.

After doing his, she gets the rest of the red hair dye and touches up her own roots as Frank admires his hair in the mirror “holy hell” he all but shouts “you should totally do this for a living dude! It’s kick ass”.

She smiles back at him admiring her handiwork “it’s cool, now go get ready we all know how long you take”.

Going out the room on Hayley’s orders, he blasts out the album American Psycho whilst looking through his chest of draws to find a reasonable outfit for tonight. Just as he begins to strip off down to his Calvin Klein boxers, he hears a knock at the door.

Rolling his eyes, he goes to open it as Hayley shouts out from the bathroom that it’s Mikey, Ray and Pete which he really didn’t need to be told considering they pretty much always come round his before parties.

Opening the door he ushers them in, the cold night air biting at his exposed flesh as he practically feels Pete’s eyes rake across his body while Mikey and Ray wait behind him impatiently. Sighing he pulls Wentz inside by his sleeve so he can shut the door quicker, Mikey and Ray following in behind.

He doesn’t even need to turn around knowing it’s Pete that slapped his butt on his way to sit down with the others, Frank just announces sarcastically “I’m way out of your of your league babe”.

“You know you want some of the Pete don’t fight it” he replies, turning to Mikey on the couch to shove his knees out of the way giving him a speech about his obnoxiously long limbs and tips to prevent further growth.

Turning up the music to drown out his friends, he battles with his skinny jeans, attempting to pull them up whilst at the same time getting stuck inside his shirt as he tugs it over his head. Hearing a door shutting, he feels someone pulling his shirt down which he’s pretty sure must be Hayley as he doubts the others would even help him even if he was dangling off a cliff.

Doing up his trousers he hears the guys fawn over how great Hayley looks as he shouts “way out of your league” again, hearing a ‘fuck you midget’ in the distance as he walks into the bathroom to apply his eyeliner.

After considerable amounts of banging on the bathroom door they finally manage to get Frank to come out, already 20 minutes late. Bundling themselves into Franks car they make their way to Bob’s house.

Grabbing two cartons of beer while Ray, Pete and Mikey grab the rest from the boot, they make their way towards the house.

The door being already open they walk straight inside, the obnoxiously loud music hitting their ears and the smell of sweat pungent in the air. The place is packed with bodies of people none of them know and probably won’t remember, they make their way into the kitchen out back.

Putting the drinks onto the counter next to the rest of them, he turns round to be met with Bob’s drunken face and a red cup thrusted into his hand, full of an unknown substance which Frank is going to drink anyway.

“Guys you have to check out Patrick, someone gave him a weed brownie and he’s been dancing ever since” Bob chokes out, his eyes already misted over in a drunk state which Frank’s immediately jealous of, mentally making it his first priority to get totally wasted.

“Oh god, Bob! You know he doesn’t drink! You were meant to keep an eye on him” Hayley sighs, but before Bob can reply she’s pushing her way past drunks and potential hook-ups to try and find a probably half naked, pole dancing Patrick.

Bob then frowns at himself as if wondering how he got there and walks out into the garden, Mikey and Ray following behind. Slinging his arm around Pete’s shoulders, they follow the sound of blearing music, originating from the living room where a dance floor and drinks table is set up like some sleazy club. He loves it. 

Exactly seven drinks and later, Frank finds himself pushed into a tiny cupboard with the two nameless girls he was dancing with earlier. The girl’s drunken selves allowing Frank to take control as their long nails claw at his back like feline cats and their moans fill the small space.

When he finally does come out, he remembers nothing of what they look like, his only objective now being to have a cigarette. Pushing past groups of people on the landing, he makes his way down the stairs, nearly tripping down every other step before he reaches the front door.

Looking around for possible subjects to steal one off, he spots what looks like Pete and run towards him, but ends up running into a small tree instead. He decides it did look a bit like Pete and therefore it wasn’t his fault that he is now laying on the floor with a painful face, but Pete’s for being shaped like a tree.

Realising that there’s a supermarket round the corner he can get cigarettes from, he begins hauling himself up from the muddy grass, using Pete the tree as leverage.

“Thank you” he nods to the tree, turning right out of Bob’s lawn and heading in the completely opposite direction to the shop.

He only manages to stumble on for about two feet before he nearly trips over his shoelaces and decides upon removing them to prevent it from happening again. Looking up from where he’s crouching to untie his shoes, he sees a bright green light shot down from the clouds just above his head. All Frank can do is gawp as the sky, transfixed in his drunken state. 

From the beam of light a man is struck down, falling towards Frank at an alarmingly fast pace. Even if Frank could will his quivering legs to move, he doesn't think he would. The descendant from the stars helplessly propels themselves downward collapsing on top of Frank and knocking him unconscious.


	2. Precious Rug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story has no plan or direction much like my life

The majority of last night was a blur. After playing ring of fire he lost count of the drink he induced, though knows it to be a lot considering the pounding headache approaching.

Groaning heavily, he tentatively opens an eye. Noticing that his surroundings are his own thoroughly impresses him, even though he can barely keep his eyes from dropping shut. Detecting a movement somewhere behind him on his sofa-bed he freezes, really not in the mood to be turning down a hopeful girl this morning.  

He begins turning onto his back slowly, in an attempt to not awaken whoever is beside him yet to still be nosy and discover who it was he slept with. Though even with his still slightly induced state, he really didn’t expect to wake up next to a _guy._

He slaps a hand across his mouth – sitting bolt upright in a sudden burst of shock as he looks down upon the sleeping form bundled beneath his (totally awesome) batman covers.

The man doesn’t appear to be someone he’s met before, or remembers seeing at the party which only feeds his apprehension if you acknowledge that this is a complete stranger.

Not just a stranger –but a _male_ stranger with a dainty face and long black eyelashes which occasionally brush his cheek when he frowns at his dreams. Frank frowns back at him.

For once in his life he takes a moment to pray to the lord that this person is wearing clothes beneath the sheets, as he can then use it as evidence to subdue his repetitive thoughts of: _you slept with a dude you slept with a dude you slept with a dude you slept with a dude you slept with a dude you slept with a dude you slept with a dude._

After a moment of anticipation, he decides upon poking the man’s cheek in an attempt to either wake him up, or to stop him from scrunching up his nose like some sort of cat – or maybe both.

He doesn’t awaken like Frank expected, but does stir next to him which causes the top of his clothed shoulder to be exposed and what appears to be a button up shirt. Pulling the sheet down slightly lower he realises that the guy is wearing a suit and in this strange moment, Frank has to appreciate that this may be the most formal morning after that he’s ever had.

Concluding that it’s most likely they didn’t sleep together unless the boy took off his whole suit then put it all back on afterwards appeases his mind slightly. Though this is short lived when he feels an arm wrap across his thigh and lay a head in his lap.

Now Frank is pretty sure he signed up for English in college – not cuddling class.

Defensively he pushes Mr Cuddle away from him, with perhaps too much force as the kid falls off the other side of the bed. Almost automatically, the face of the boy reappears, though this time timidly peering over the side of bed at Frank who just glares back.

“Who are you? And what the hell are you doing in my house” He growls at the floating head.

The boy just sniffs at him, making no move to stand up or speak back as he continues to stare at Frank intently.

Getting up, Frank walks round the bed to face the kid “I asked you a question” he states, short temper at its worse due to the headache that’s getting increasingly worse as seconds pass.

The kid just carries on staring up at Frank, his legs stretched out in front of him as he wiggles his toes in Frank’s fur rug. Frank doesn’t like him.

Bending down to the same level as the kid he asks slowly “are you mute or something?”

When he unsurprisingly doesn’t get an answer, Frank gets up to pull the door open as a hint for the guy to leave. Which ends up being unnecessary as when he turns back round, the boy is gone. And so is his rug. 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day

 

Frank decides to spend today not thinking of the strange boy by annoying Hayley at work and by work he’s referring to burger king. The irony of it is how health conscious she is. I mean honestly, he’s the vegetarian, yet she still manages to have a diet filled with vegetables while Frank’s consists of Twizzlers.

Throwing on a band top and squeezing into a pair of ripped skinny jeans, he makes his way out of the door, the events of yesterday morning running through his mind.

He doesn’t want it to bug him, but it does. Even they didn’t sleep together, he should’ve at least have had the decency to explain why he thought it acceptable to get into bed with him and cuddle him come morning.  

Sighing, he realises that he recollects nothing of Bob’s house party that may lead him to recall the guy at all –not even his name.

Getting in the car he drives to Hayley work in silence, figuring he won’t tell her what happened yesterday as the more he thinks about it the madder he appears. Putting it out of his mind, he exits the car to make his way into the fast food joint, immediately spotting Hayley’s bright orange hair and her off-blue burger king hat.

Frank takes a moment to appreciate feeling the more attractive of the two for once, even though he really doesn’t look like much. He waves at her like a proud mum from where he’s stood by the door with customers beginning to bundle in behind him. Making no move to unblock their entry until Hayley furiously gestures him over - not wanting to be embarrassed further.

Bounding over to a frustrated Hayley, he goes straight up to her till “I would like-” though is quickly cut off when she snaps “we don’t sell kids portions here sorry”.

Frowning at her rude greeting he retorts “whatever dude your hat has a spinner on it” which he then proceeds to flick with his finger to prove the point.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when I am able to afford a ps6 and you can’t” she retaliates, slapping away Franks hand from her hat.

“What – no! you must’ve misunderstood, what I meant was that I _love_ the hat, I hear its all the rage in vogue - please let me share your ps6” 

“Metaphorical ps6”

“Is that a yes?”

“Don’t bother me until my break and it’s a yes”

Counting it as a win he saunters off to explore the rest of the mall while he waits for her lunch break.  He doesn’t usually visit the mall, not because he thinks he’s too punk rock or anything – he’s doesn’t normally manage to get past the food hall at the entrance. But considering his mother’s birthday is coming up next week, he should really start looking for a present that she will end up taking back.

Taking the elevator up to the first floor, he scopes the giant place for mom looking shop. Figuring M&S is a mom enough shop; he drags himself inside and immediately starts looking through a pile of drab dresses of various dull colours.

“That colour would really suit you” a nasally voice announces behind him.

Still clutching the pink dress he turns around, expecting to see a smug Hayley or an unexpected Ray – but instead comes face to face with the boy who stole his rug. 

He almost jumps out of his skin, definitely not expecting to become reacquainted with the guy after that night and definitely not whilst holding a pink satin dress.

Baffled, he just kind of gawps at the previously mute guy who just carries on looking at the dress, genuinely trying to be polite in appreciating Franks apparent dress choice.

“The dress isn’t for me” he frowns looking down at it then to the again well-dressed man in front of him.

The boy who stole his rug nods as if unconvinced which agitates Frank as he doesn’t know the guy and therefore he has no right to be judging Frank’s dress – even though it’s not his dress.

“Who are you” Frank asks, defensively folding his arms across his chest whilst frowning.

The guy that stole his rug looks up with a face equivalent to a question mark. “I’m Gerard, I thought we discussed this the night before last”.

It dawns on him that he must’ve met the guy whilst completely wasted which is probably why he doesn’t recollect anything about his new friend. Although drunken Frank seems to have made friends with this guy, he could hardly consider Gerard a friend whilst sober. The guy makes him uncomfortable and he doesn’t know whether it’s due to the rug incident or the unnecessary cuddling, he guesses the latter.

“We didn’t discuss anything and I don’t remember you, nor do I intend to” Frank snaps at the know-it-all.

“Well I remember you Frank” Gerard replies meekly, looking down at his shoes with a slight blush adoring his cheeks as if slapped.

Turning to place the dress back onto its original rail, he grunts at the guy, launching a speech upon how stalkers get locked up and that Gerard will too if he doesn’t leave him alone. But it’s to no avail as his perfectly well constructed speech gets lost into the silence of the store as Gerard’s yet again nowhere to be seen.


	3. It's really just shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could have uploaded this earlier but was busy looking at hamster memes

This time Frank doesn’t need to try and project Gerard from his mind as Hayley approaches him no later than 5 minutes after the boy’s departure.

“I would ask why you’re in M&S but you’ve always had a thing for older women so I guess this is like babe heaven for you”

He offers Hayley the most unamused look he can possibly muster before retaliating “mom’s birthday coming up”

“You haven’t got Linda’s present yet?”

“No but I’m guessing you have” he answers rolling his eyes.

“Well we can’t all be as efficient as me can we? C’mon I’ll help you find something” she says tugging his sleeve and pulling him out of the drab shop.

Cautiously Frank looks about him, expecting to see Gerard cropping up out of nowhere saying something inappropriate. But he doesn’t, which makes him feel disappointed and he doesn’t know what to make of that.

He puts it out his mind; focusing upon the expensive looking shop Hayley is currently dragging him into knowing he will soon have a hole in his wallet.

Being dragged through the shop, he finds himself in front of a large stack of bags that towers over the both of them which he figures is due to them being so short.

“Can I help you?” A well groomed woman with long blonde hair inquires looking down upon us distastefully.

Hayley being the nice person she is, doesn’t seem to notice the woman looking at them as if she just smelt something awful and instead smiles back offering a “no thank you we’re good” proceeding to turn her back on the pompous woman.

Pretty much every minute Hayley pulls out a different bag and thrusts it into his face with the question “What about this one?” which he answers every one with “it looks great I’ll get that one” but then doesn’t as Hayley ends up putting it back due to one flaw or another.

They end up looking through all the bags to no avail and have to venture upstairs, further into the maze which he later finds out is named Harrods. Upon reaching the second floor he wishes he just bought the first bag Hayley showed him, already tired from the much too long shopping spree.

For at least the fifth time today he gets dragged into one of the sections in the shop, groaning heavily and receiving disapproving looks in return from various cashiers and customers. He now realises why Hayley chose to work in burger king.

Repeating the same process as earlier, Frank sits while Hayley passes different items of clothing to him which literally gets piled up to the extent of not being able to breathe.

“What do you think of this fur jacket?” Hayley asks but receives no reply

“Frank?”

She hears a “under here” and realises that the pile of talking clothes is actually Frank. Pulling him out from underneath it all she giggles at him, holding out a fur coat that’s on sale for £100.

“What do you think?”

“I think that if my mom takes this back after I buy it she will be issued a new son” he grins at her but isn’t exactly joking he could buy a new computer with this money.

Making their way to a cashier he hears her she mutter something about the cost. “Its £100” he states showing the disbelieving cashier the price tag to prove it and receives an unnecessary nudge from Hayley in the ribs.

“What was that for?” He scowls.

“She said Lacoste Frank, not the cost - it’s a brand” she whisper shouts determined not to make them look more like twelve year olds they are already short they really don’t need another reason to look like children who have lost their mum.

Blushing, he just hands the woman the money and speed walks away with Hayley laughing behind him. He hangs back to shove her lightly as she unsuccessfully tries to contain her laughter “not funny” he pouts.

“Its £100” she mimics in a voice that sounds like a pubescent teenager internally reminding herself never to go shopping with Frank.

With Hayley too busy laughing at her own jokes and Frank too busy ignoring her, they manage to get lost in the shop and ending up in Gucci.

Once Hayley has finished texting probably half the school about Frank embarrassing himself probably adding to the story that he was buying a fur coat for himself, she finally looks up at Frank to see him in mega queen mode.

Mega queen mode is something that even Bob would be freaked by. She knows, she’s seen it and boy - it wasn’t pretty. Mega queen mode is basically the same as a bitch fit but inside of a little punk dude so it’s ten times worse. Doctors haven’t found a cure for it yet but Kit-Kats do tend to help.

Pulling on a pair of the most ridiculous sunglasses she can find, she dances around him ridiculously with the intent of embarrassing herself so that he would feel better.

Succeeding, he grabs himself a pair as well, exhibiting the same ridiculous pose as one of the models on the pictures which Hayley takes a picture of. It soon escalates into them trying on the most absurd items of clothing they can find, striking their best poses and cat walking so well Cara Delevingne would be jealous.

The fun is short lived as Hayley realises she actually has a job and rushes off to work after acknowledging that her break ended five minutes ago, ultimately leaving Frank in a changing room with loads of female clothing. A predicament which he solved by handing back the items to one of the nicer looking workers saying they didn’t fit quite right before rushing out.

He decides he doesn’t like shopping _at all._

At least he managed to get his mom a present that she will effectively love as Hayley chose it, even though he thinks her fashion sense is equivalent to the banana in pyjamas theme tune.

Before leaving the mall he considers buying an umbrella to shield him from the rain, but decides against it after spotting a Thornton’s shop on the way out through the food hall, unsurprisingly resulting in him spending the last of his money on two boxes of chocolates.

Only after the money is spent, does he realise that he really should’ve done the smart thing and bought himself the umbrella now he has to wait inside the shopping centre for the rain to stop. Sauntering over to the decorative water fountain, he contemplates taking some of the money out the water - but figures he’s not that much of an asshole.

It dawns on him how tired his legs are once he sits down, appreciating the peace and quiet of the nearly deserted mall, allowing his eyes to fall shut. The silence is soon broken by an obnoxious boy sitting so close to himself that he can literally feel him breathing down his neck. He doesn’t even have to look to know its Gerard.

“What do you want?” Frank utters opening his eyes only to address him with a frown.

“Oh my, thank goodness! I thought you were dead!” Gerard exclaims throwing his arms across Frank’s chest and grinning so wide that it reaches his eyes.

He awkwardly pushes Gerard away from him, but the guy is seemingly unaware of Franks personal space and soon scooches back up to him the moment a gap's made between them. Undeterred, he begins rifling through Frank’s previously forgotten bags, pulling out one of his chocolate boxes before Frank yanks them back off of him.

“Don’t go through my stuff it’s rude”

“..What are those?” Gerard asks, his eyes wide as he points a small finger to the chocolates Frank just confiscated off him.

“You’ve never tried a Thornton’s chocolate??” he questions in disbelief

“Thorntons? They sound painful to me”

Choosing to ignore Gerard’s odd statement, he takes out one of his least favourite chocolates and holds it out to him to take feeling minutely sorry for the guy for never having tried one before.

Though Instead of hands, he feels something soft graze his fingers, and looks down to see Gerard taking the chocolate from him using his mouth with a look that shows he doesn’t think it was anything but normal. Frank finds himself unable to draw his eyes away from the soft pink lips which were previously pressed to his skin.

His eyes flicker to more of a decent area of Gerard's being when he sees him pull the most delighted face like Frank just rewarded him with his last scout badge.

“Wow these are wow” Gerard nods at him ecstatically his eyes wide with awe as he places a gentle hand on Franks shoulder.

“Thank you so much Rank” he expresses his clear gratitude.

“It’s pronounced Frank”

“That’s what I said Rank” he nods again, getting distracted by another of Franks bags with a big furry thing sticking out the top.

“WOW” Gerard shouts, making a few late shoppers turn to look at the pair which Frank really wished he could refer to as just him.

Glaring down at Gerard for sixth time in God knows how many, he realises what Gerard is fawning over, and is not surprised to he see Gerard being swallowed by the big fur coat.

“It’s so – It’s so -” he stutters running his hand through the fur.

“Fluffy, yes – I know. Now Gerard I really must go” he lies, figuring he should really get away from the perplexing stranger before he tries to take the coat too.

Gerard’s eyes then turn sad, which Frank doesn’t know whether is due to the way he said it or the fact he can no longer snoop through the rest of his stuff. Either way, Frank doesn’t care.

Then it dawns on him. “Where the hell is my rug?” he questions pulling the white fur coat off Gerard’s shoulders before he damages it or something.

“What’s a rub?” Gerard questions, tilting his head to the side like a confused puppy.

Trying to prevent himself from losing it from frustration he all but shouts “it’s not funny, where is my rug”

Again the boy gives him a quizzical look and Frank’s starts to believe maybe he dreamt it up but still pushes, not letting the guy’s innocent act get the better of him.

“Do you understand or are you really just that stupid? You know – the big fluffy thing you stole from me and God knows what else while I wasn’t looking?” he says grinding his teeth together irritably, on the verge of entering mega queen mode.  

Gerard hangs his head low, his shoulders jutting inwards like a wounded creature as he mutters small apologises over and over making Frank feel slightly bad for raising his voice.

“Look Gerard -” he starts, but is cut off by a loud sob escaping the boy, only making him feel worse.

Not really knowing how he became the one to be apologising, he ends up handing Gerard the rest of his chocolates as a peace keeping.

Almost instantly, Gerard’s face brightens like the sun penetrating through clouds on a stormy day. He gives Frank the most genuine smile, leaving him slightly speechless to the whole situation as the boy is soon rushing off in the same fashion Frank has become accustomed to. Leaving him standing in the middle of the mall watching the rain paint the glass doors, contemplating why Gerard has such an effect over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me ages so appreciate ygm this chapter wasnt even meant to have gerard in it but i missed him so // apparently they r english now bc i cba to change money frequency to $$


	4. Aliens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any typos they kinda get edited out later as I read over it lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kinda late but i really wanted popcorn and my mum wouldn't let me have popcorn so it all went ww1 but hey here's chapter 4

No matter what extent Gerard irritates him, he still returned Franks rug as upon his arrival home, he found it laying the same position which it was originally in before its disappearing act. At first he thought he must’ve just misplaced it, but soon realised that his floor was conspicuously littered with chocolate wrappings. He didn’t want to know how Gerard got in.

The whole ordeal with the boy should’ve really impacted him more than it has. You would really expect him to be freaked out by the knowledge that someone is able to get into his house but all it really did was anger him.  

You know what else angers him – summer. He’s literally spent the first few days of half term with a hangover, shopping for his mother or hanging out at Burger King. Not to mention the fact everything he does is in the scorching heat and blinding sunlight.

Not today. Today he vows to only have fun which resolutely consists of not thinking about the annoying puppy that has a tendency to follow him around - more commonly known by the name Gerard. Instead he intends to spend his time wasting within the walls of an arcade.

Hearing his phone vibrate, he unlocks it to see three new messages; two from Pete which he gathers are just sexts and another from Hayley who’s just informing him that one of her friends is coming too which he really hopes is the cute curly haired boy with the septum piercing.

Oh how he was wrong.

He should’ve guessed it really, his luck has never been particularly fortune but it’s only ironic that out of all the possible subjects in the whole of the United Kingdom that Hayley’s new friend would be Gerard. _Of course_.

He doesn’t even realise that it’s Gerard when he turns up to the arcade. The boy was almost invisible as he hid behind Hayley until he realised that Frank was there, which changed his mood completely and unfortunately became unstuck to Hayley’s side, and instead stuck to his.

“Well Frank, this is Gerard!” Hayley says, introducing the boy currently beaming up at him.

“Yeah. We’ve met” he bluntly puts giving Gerard a death glare causing him to shuffle back timidly.

Before Hayley can tell his little stalker that Franks just in a bad mood and to ignore him, he pulls her off to one side so the others can’t overhear.

“Dude what’s your problem with Gerard?” she asks, frowning at Frank in disapproval.

“The guy is a maniac! He’s currently stalked me through the mall, stolen my chocolates and my rug – not to mentio-“

“Frank seriously, slow down and tell me exactly why he’s such a bad person”                      

He sighs dejectedly and looks over to where Gerard’s sitting with Bob, Ray and Mikey in the bar not really being able to conjure and exact reason from his mind of why Gerard is really that terrible. He just is?

He flicks his eyes back towards a disgruntled Hayley and settles on “how did you even come to meet him?”

She shrugs carelessly “He’s my biggest fan at Burger King, always tells me I do an amazing job with the food”

“But you don’t cook them” he points out unhelpfully.

“Well he doesn’t have to know that”

“You’re just a sucker for compliments”

 “Well you just suck”

He rolls his eyes at her immaturity whilst making their way over to where the others are situated.

“It’s not my fault he’s never been to Burger King – do you think he’s foreign or something?” she says trying - and failing, to think of a boy she knows that’s never visited Burger King.

“More like alien” he grunts out, watching as Gerard stabs a straw into the ketchup bottle and proceeds to drink it while the others are in too deep of a conversation about the best guitarist to notice Gerard being weird. Hayley narrows her eyes at Frank’s unfriendly expression but inwardly cringes at his supposed choice of beverage.

Even with Hayley’s touching speech he decides to sit next to the others and input that, of course Paul Caiafa is the greatest guitarist of all time – not that anyone takes much notice, being already emerged within their own dispute. Nonetheless, he still considers it better than striking up a conversation with Gerard which would ultimately result in him being exasperated.

Once the heated discussion deceases and they finally notice Frank presence, they decide to waste their cash purchasing crappy drinks whilst exploring the arcades facilities, being scrutinised under its neon lights.

Himself and Bob start playing an intense game of pacman while Ray attempts to win Mikey a toy from the machine probably as an attempt to heroically win him over or something while Mikey plays his favourite game also known as the vending machine.

As for Hayley and Gerard, he honestly isn’t sure where they went but knows Gerard’s probably trying to steal his best friend while he games. He narrows his eyes at the screen his distracted mind being the cause of him losing the next round – not his lack of skill.

Frustrated, he goes in search of Hayley which he really needn’t do as she only appears seconds later – he puts it down to friendship telepathy.

Sadly for Frank, Gerard is still present which rules out his initial thoughts of trying to lose him within the arcade. He rolls his eyes at Gerard, giving his full attention to Hayley who’s currently holding Gerard’s hand in hers. He doesn’t like Gerard.

It’s not like he’s _jealous_ , he doesn’t particularly want to hold Hayley’s hand or anything he just doesn’t approve of Hayley’s quick friendship with a guy whom she seems to hardly know. Not only that but they keep laughing at random words which constitutes as them having their own private jokes with one another again something that was previously only a Frank and Hayley thing.

“You guys wanna play a racing game?” Hayley invites to the group, dodging Franks odd looks presuming his MQM is in process.

“Sure” Ray answers from them, pulling Mikey away from the vending machine and Bob from his serious game of pacman.

They stroll toward the back of the arcade, Hayley leading the way along with Gerard who clings onto her hand so tight from apparent nervousness.

Upon seeing the two machines, the friends look at each other all thinking the same thing before they run towards them all trying to get on first before one other. Him and Hayley manage to get the motorcycle shaped seats first as being the shortest in the group sometimes has its perks of being able to weave through crowds quickly.

Unfortunately the barnacle attached to Hayley also gets to the seat first as she dragged him through. Before Hayley can offer Gerard the seat on the back of her motorcycle seat however Bob jumps on the back.

She giggles at Bob then turns to Gerard offering what Frank dreaded.

“Why don’t you sit on the back of Frank’s one honey?” she asks in a motherly tone.

Frank scowls and looks to find a hopeful Gerard peering at him whose smile soon turns gloomy after Frank glares at him “he can go on after”.

“ _Frank Antony Iero_ ” she says in a voice which he’d rather not mess with.

Knowing it’s useless to try and argue with her he grabs Gerard by the wrist and pulls him onto the seat behind him, though draws the line when Gerard attempts to wrap his arms round Frank’s waist.

“Can you at least keep your hands to yourself?”

Gerard shrugs and places his hands either side of the motorbike instead, though Frank can still feel the rise and fall of his chest against his back.

“I hope you two girls are ready to get beaten” Hayley smirks putting the remainder of their money into the machine.

“But Hayley we’re boys” Gerard states in his annoying nasally voice.

Hayley just laughs but Gerard doesn’t seem to get it and instead stares down at his chest confused as if expecting to see a pair of boobs emerge.

When the game starts Gerard only gets increasingly more confused, repetitively trying to touch the screen which consequently blocks Franks view resulting to them losing. Though Gerard doesn’t seem to particularly care as he is quickly distracted by a toy machine.

Hayley and Bob high five, sticking their tongues out at them immaturely while Frank just glares back at Gerard who doesn’t realise anyway as he has already moved on to looking into the toy machine in awe.

Its only seconds later that a scream pierces his ears and he follows Hayley in the direction of the noise to see Gerard utterly devastated, his eyes locked to the contents of the toy machine,

“What’s wrong honey?” Hayley asks rubbing his upper back slightly, completely perplexed by his sudden distress.

When he doesn’t reply, Frank moves closer to the machine to see what could possibly be agitating him so much, but all he can see is a bunch of tacky alien baby toys.

It dawns on Frank that perhaps it was just a scream of excitement and that he just really wants one but doesn't want to say.

Gerard turns to Hayley, his eyes likening a kicked puppy “Why are they incubating aliens in an arcade”

Hayley looks at Frank momentarily receiving a look from him that radiates ‘I told you so’. Flicking her eyes back to Gerard rubs his arm slightly “they are toys buttercup – they aren’t real” slightly concerned Gerard didn’t know this before.

“And anyway, aliens aren’t real” Frank adds.

Before Gerard can answer that of course aliens are real, Hayley is already working the crane on the machine to try and win one to prove it further, and after many attempts and frustrated sighs later a pink one falls out of the dispenser which she immediately hands to Gerard.

“See, it’s not real” she states showing him the made in china sign effectively washing away his saddened pout.

He frowns at the alien in his hand and turns to Frank “Do I look like this?”

Laughing at Gerard he takes the opportunity to reply that of course he does.

“Ignore him Gerard of course you don’t look like that” she butts in proceeding to drag Gerard in the opposite direction to avoid Frank’s indecent behaviour.

The rest of the day is spent with Frank hanging with the guys and purposely ignoring Hayley and Gerard while they play dance mat and Gerard continuously fails to even get one point as he just ensues his dad dancing.

Getting immersed in a game of space invaders he manages to ignore their stupid friendship and Gerard’s stupid smug face and Hayley’s stupid choice of friends which leads him to almost jump out of his skin when he feels someone breathe down his neck.

“Why are you shooting aliens” He shrieks, only getting closer to Frank in order to bang on the glass screen probably as an attempt to get the aliens out.

He notices that Gerard is still holding the alien judges his strange fascination with the mighty beings.

“I don’t like it” Gerard continues, this time whispering when he fails to grab the aliens in the games attention.

“I don’t like you” He replies, not fully meaning it but agitated by him as he has already caused  Frank to lose the game and totally took his best friend.

Gerard shuffles back slightly, allowing Frank to make note of Gerard’s new coloured clip in hair extensions, momentarily wondering whether the kid bought the whole arcade store upon noticing his new light up tie and three more alien toys tied to his belt as if they were some sort of weapon.

He rolls his eyes at Gerard’s get up and feels his presence diminish as the boy soon leaves to hang out with Hayley again, taking his flashing light up shoes and pink alien with him to Frank’s pleasure.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u dont know what an alien baby is im ashamed


	5. Feeling sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i have become one of those writers that names chapters after songs god help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a while, i met gerard and he blessed me with his cold!!! side comment i am also piled up with work

It’s not long after Gerard’s little episode that Hayley storms over to Frank, not even bothering to pull him out of the arcade before she starts questioning him like a convicted criminal.

“Why are you treating Gerard like this?” she exclaims in a voice Frank has never before had the displeasure in being aimed towards him.

“I have many reasons” he simply replies huffily facing away from her.

“Is it because your jealous because Fran-“

“I don’t care what you do Hayley” he retaliates.

“Fine then, me and Gerard are leaving” She says grabbing Gerard by the arm and tugging him towards her.

“Like it matters, I’m not your best friend anyway”

Her face falls into a hurt expression, a look Frank has become acquainted with a lot recently.

She shakes her head at him uttering “Not anymore”.

Turning on her heel, she walks out the arcade, Gerard being consequently being dragged along with her by the wrist, looking back at Frank as if this entire charade wasn’t his fault. He’d only been the cause of their first ever fight within their six years of friendship. _No big deal_.

He thumps the palms of his hands against the tacky arcade game, the sweaty ambiance of the brightly lit arcade only achieving in conjuring a migraine than dulling his harassed mind. Arguments between Hayley and himself usually only consist over who gets the last slice of pizza, not who’s morally correct. The worst silence prevails his mind at a loss of lyrics for his sentences, the farewell to his lasting friends absent as he makes his way to the matching grimy parking lot where his car sits looking flawless in comparison. He feels like the car park.

His hand brushes the wheel, the engine managing to drive even with his minute effort. The distance prolonged by his incessant mind was ever so tiring though the road stretching in front of the glass window told him it was only 10 miles.

His mind is the least present when the door opens to the face of his mother which is neither impressed nor depressed, he envies. The gap between mother and son is a large cross hung upon the wall, covering a patch where the paint is flaking.

He believes the questions which follow entail Hayley and her where-abouts, but none reach his ears until the gap is closed with warm arms around him and his mother’s voice becomes the subject of his interest.

“What’s wrong buttercup?” she asks in what Frank would usually consider a patronising voice.

“Hayley hates me” he says with a harmless shrug.

“Why would she hate you sweetheart – she’s your friend?” an innocent voice questions from where it rests on his shoulder. But his mother’s like that, everything is a just story to her, a mere glitch with a fairy tale ending.

“Best friend actually” he says to counter his mother.

 “Even more to the point - what could you do to upset her?” pulling away from the heartfelt hug she initiated to suspend the air between them.

“Exactly that – I informed her that she isn’t what I told you she is” another shrug ensuing.

His words weren’t  exactly all withheld, he is concerned for their friendship, but the underlying factor that calls themself Gerard was really the pinnacle of his seventeen year old midlife crisis.

Linda pulls her first, youngest and only son to her bosom long cold claws patting down his – in her opinion – awfully unruly hair, placing a kiss to his temple.

“Why would you tell her that?” her naivety continues without a well-deserved reply.

She chooses to continue by treading on unknown ground on account of her sons silence “Do you like Hayley?”

He breathes for a moment, the idea simply sweet enough to be the finale to her fairy-tale indulged life. He ponders on retaliating with ‘yes’, knowing he’d adore to adore Hayley in the way that Chad does – he just doesn’t.

He chooses to reply truthfully “I don’t love Hayley”

She lets out a small huff, her bubble of happiness popped by the pin that’s Frank reality “Well if you’re sure, I don’t see why you can’t just apologise”.

He understands that she’s referring to apologising to Hayley, but he knows well and truly it isn’t her who deserves the apology. It’s the one who’s constantly stuck to her side like glue. Frank soon finds himself back in his shed, the cool and familiarity of his surroundings comforting apart from the monotone ringing that abruptly breaks, shuffling noises down the other end of the line before he is greeted with a similar monotone voice that he’s sorely missed.

“What do you want?” the phone sings into Frank’s ear.

“I shouldn’t have behaved that way” he speaks without a crack in his voice.

 “You can’t treat people like that Frank” she scolds, most probably frowning at the phone.

“I won’t treat you like that again” he promises back to the phone, sounding like a bad romance movie – ready to declare his undying love and swear to chop off his own arm if that’s what she pleases.

“I wasn’t talking about myself” the line speaks with an overheard aside of ‘yes you can have the ketchup’ in the background informing him of Gerard’s ever present self.

Soon, but not unexpectedly a distant “hello” is voiced after another length of shuffling while Frank sits awkwardly on his sofa.

“Gerard?” he sighs, regretting calling Hayley already only five minutes into the apology.

“Frank?!” a crash follows as the line cuts off making Frank flinch in reaction, bewildered yet accustomed to Gerard’s behaviour.

He isn’t left long to ponder, his phone shortly ringing after its silence. Picking up automatically he takes to the mirror, addressing his untidy hair with tattooed fingers. The Hayley that speaks now is forgetful of their past argument, pressing on a “bigger issue” as she put it.

“What do you mean he has nowhere to stay?” he screeched into the room’s silence.

“I have no space for him you know what my parents are like” she disregards his question as he regards her parents closed minds.

“Well where are his?” referring to the seemingly lost boys guardians.

Her tone sinks into a whisper “don’t you think I asked that? Frank when I ask he points to the ceiling”

“His parents are in your loft?” he tries in the strange hope for the answer to be yes rather than the dark thoughts that invade the latter.

The dead silence tells him that his humour is lost of dry laughter, the thought of a kid like Gerard alone ruptures his earlier distaste for him. He wonders how Hayley must feel in comparison.

“I have space on my couch” he finds himself offering, mulling over his mother’s previous  attempt for a fairy tale ending, knowing his story most definitely isn’t having one.


	6. Through the looking glass

Frank often finds himself perched by the window, reading a book of some sort or simply picking at the loose denim his jeans fray when experiencing extreme boredom. He doesn’t usually find himself looking out of it.

His hazel eyes meet the glass while he awaits Gerard and Hayley’s arrival, inspecting the various indentations from vicious weathered beatings. The silence of outside slightly patronising in its own way, suggesting it doesn’t care for Frank’s tired musings.

He never thought of nature as a fragment of beauty, a gift from God in which to worship - but then again, it isn’t like he has ever bothered looking. He considers his own surroundings for a second and can’t particularly call his man made brick shelter anything near to beautiful either. It may just be his unfeminine masculinity talking and beauty may be in the eye of the beholder - but he just doesn’t see.  

His eyes flicker back to the perfectly mowed grass, perfectly arranged flowers and the perfectly shaped hedges, unfitting next to Franks dishevelled being. The sun yawns as darkness crawls in – around the time when people draw their curtains to keep bashful light indoors and black gloom the reverse.

His body is enticed closer to the bitter cold window, a window soon to be shared with another set of eyes when Gerard chose to gaze out of it. He is almost certain that having Gerard within the same breathing space as himself would be far too overwhelming in the most exasperating respect. Perhaps that’s why he has taken to the window? – Just to appreciate the calm silence before the storm. 

Gerard then steps into the garden as if on cue. The son of a bitch is the flame in Franks cinnamon candle, a pungent perfume which wafts through the night air that Frank’s senses fail to ignore. The boy’s eyes as always lack sadness, an observation Frank has never before been able to make in a person. His skin is instead pulled tight into a smile, seemingly his favourite item of clothing to wear.

Physically he stretches at least three inches above Frank - taller? – Yes. But to average sized person? – Small. The fog of crisp air that Gerard breathes out surrounds him for what seems like an hour before it disperses like wildflower and the dainty pale face is yet again visible, cutting through the shadows in the night. He felt, that if he wanted to, he could reach his hand through the glass and pick Gerard up between thumb and forefinger from where walks a fair distance away.

The thought occurs to him how harmless Gerard appears, bounding across the stubby grass like a new-born puppy. Occasionally disappearing into the shadow, yet constantly remerging into the light. How could one who has lost his loved ones smile so wistfully?

The diminishing light from outside makes Gerard’s features appear soft in touch, fuzzy and delicate unlike the flowers which lie at the boy’s feet, nose titled at the tip the same way a child would draw a pixie, animated with expressions that feed into one another the more passionate he becomes. His voice pours forth into the night, yet silent to Frank’s ears, hands flapping with enthusiasm, almost hitting himself in the face when the conversation gets exceedingly heated.  

Abstract of all faults as Gerard may seem, he’s sure he could find a few.

His fixed gaze jumps to acknowledge the figure of Hayley that walks beside Gerard. Tinged slightly red, she at least looks less irritated than earlier - perhaps as a result of his inner samaritan who agreed to care for Gerard.

Time is shortened when he hears a knock on his door, breaking the silence which before encircled him. He pushes himself away from the window to see Gerard's distorted face in the broken glass of the door before he unwillingly tugs it open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boring but creates a break in the ever moving story line


	7. What's On The Tv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's really late update it won't normally be, i have had loads of mocks, coursework and was ill so yeah really sorry guys

And Gerard’s presence is everywhere, shrieking at particular standard domestic household items slumping his bags on the floor which were actually Hayley’s. Indicating that the boys possessions are less than zero.

He seemed cheerful enough.

Hayley was his contrast.

He takes in her complexion and sees a woman almost foreign to him. Red circles surround her eyes, her lips chapped with hair greasier than his and he’s pretty sure she is starting to breakout. She’s always been the mercilessly kind type, considering the world before her own reflection a flaw and a strength in its own.

He placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder his lips trembling with the apology he was about to voice.

“Don’t worry about it Frank”

And that’s all he needed. He was never the one for considering his own mistakes and Hayley was never the one to hold grudges. He always found that when a larger issue comes into play the smaller of them becomes insignificant – his and Hayley’s argument - Gerard being the catalyst - in the arcade reversed to him and Hayley forgiving with Gerard being the magnet that brought them together.

He drew the little flame headed lady into his arms, while she mumbled instructions making Frank promise to looking after Gerard – like taking an oath on a wedding day.

“Go and get some sleep, he’s fine here Hayley”

He knows arguments and the sadness of others drain her, no matter how strong she appears.

She hugs his body to hers closer before letting go, agreeing to possibly the only advice she would ever approve of.

Eyes flickering from Hayley, he sighs at Gerard who is currently poking at a pile of china plates threatening to teeter off the edge, the same way Frank feels whilst watching Gerard in most situations. Not that he makes a habit of watching him.

Trying to contain his disapproving grimace – for Hayley’s sake – he finds himself partly thankful when she hugs the stranger.

Murmurings of “are you sure you’re going to be okay?”, “tell me if Frank gets too unbearable” and “are you sure you’ve got everything?” are being passed as a one way conversation as Hayley tells a perfectly content Gerard that she’s just a phone call away if he needs her.

He’s perfectly fine.

Frank isn't.

When things like this happen to Frank he usually just goes with it – which in itself is a defect and highly dangerous, one of the reasons he’s in this mess at the moment.

 A stranger living in his own breathing space is highly daunting. He could be anyone, like the woman in the orphan who pretended to be a little girl. Its possible Gerard could be a re-enactment of the film - he _does_ look a lot younger than he is after all.

Then Hayley leaves Frank alone with the possible serial killer dressed in again, another suit.

He squints at the fidgeting boy, debating how much of a threat he is. Gerard twiddles his fingers in a wave to Frank who continues scowling.

Definitely a threat.

He pointedly ignores Gerard who awkwardly stands behind the sofa which Frank situates himself on really not in the mood for a strange conversation. Though, of course – he gets it anyway.

As soon as Frank turns on the TV, the quietly content boy projects an extremely girly shriek running toward the TV with fear embedded in his eyes.

Frank places a hand over his heart in shock of the sudden outburst “what the hell is wro-?”

“Frank I don’t mean to frighten you but there are loads of little people in your box” he nods, pointing to the TV to emphasise the origin of his distress.

“That’s a TV Gerard?” he questions, wondering if this is one of the boys strange jokes that he doesn’t get.

“No this here Frank you must help” Gerard’s worried voice wavers turning his full attention to the so called 'box'.

“It’s only a TV Gerard” he states.

Gerard doesn’t reply - but moves closer to the TV, his nose pressing against the glass screen probably leaving breath marks as Frank reiterates “It’s a TV”.

Gerard turns to give him an unexpected scowl “Can you stop making that strange noise and help me”

“What strange noise?”

“TV”

“I’m not saying TV, i'm saying it's a TV”

“Frank, stop it”

He gets up from where he sits and places a hand on Gerard’s shoulder, kneeling a good two feet away from the outsider remembering how Hayley stated that the boy had never tried burger king before.

“Have you never seen a Television before?” he asks, more to himself than Gerard, who actually seems more calm now Frank’s next to him.

Gerard shakes his head, turning to look at Frank with a pout from confusion.

“Its supposed to be like that Gerard, someone has recorded these people and put them on what is called a TV for entertainment, I promise they aren’t actually stuck in there” he persuades, really not knowing where such a soft tone has come from – he really just should’ve told Gerard to pull himself together or he’d put him in the TV too.

Seemingly content with Frank’s explanation he moves to the seat Frank was previously in, almost getting lost behind the mountain of pillows and various blankets. 

“Where do you come from?” he Inquires, trying hard to think of a place which doesn't sell fast food./p>

“Zylorp” Gerard answers in a disinterested tone.

Frank nods back “cool” deciding it sounds like a strange enough place to not have fast food.

Frank’s terrible at Geography.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter sucked balls but i had a lot of work to keep up with so what im saying is of i get a D in my mocks ur all to blame hope u feel bad


	8. Making Dinner for 0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lemon boy down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayy bet u didnt expect such a quick update call me a showstopper

Gerard decides to spend the rest of his evening staring at Frank. Because Gerard likes Franks features.

Frank has no choice but to spend the rest of the evening uncomfortably watching the TV. Because Frank finds Gerard unnerving.

It seems that even after the enlightenment of what TV is; Gerard is still highly suspicious of its purpose, resulting in him spending a length of hours which are probably only minutes, observing Frank.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“- Frank – can I call you Frank?”

“It is my name”

“I don’t find the teas knees particularly interesting” he nods, sympathy controlling his face.

Frank guesses he's talking about the TV, but honestly finds himself too wiped out to care. He nods back halfheartedly, switching off the obnoxiously loud American TV to have a Gerard follow him into the kitchen area.

“What are we doing Frank?” he frowns, lifting up a discarded mug on the counter, holding it in his dainty hands before placing it back down with a disgruntled look.

“Making dinner?” He answers with a question, partly to Gerard’s unrequired judgement on his household items and partly on the quite self-explanatory reason of why he was in the kitchen at this time.

“Can I help?” Gerard gasps, his eyes wide in excitement – a gesture which Frank was particularly confused about –he was only deliberating whether to make pot noodle or spaghetti hoops.

“If you stay out of my way”

“Okay sure” he nods enthusiastically like a cub scout being given a new badge.  

It turns out that Gerard doesn’t stay out of Franks way – instead he prolongs Franks hunger by constantly burning himself on various appliances that aren't even required in order to make pot noodle and by sprinkling hot curry powder on top of Franks noodles instead of pepper like he asked for. But thats okay because Gerard decided to resolve the dilemma by adding salt on top which would in Gerard's words "mask the taste". 

In the end Frank had to redo both dinners, deciding on cooking spaghetti hoops instead whilst ordering Gerard to reorganise the fridge in a bid to keep the agitating kid out of his way. Long story short – Gerard ends up squirting lemon juice in his eye that Frank honestly didn’t know he even had.

“FRANK I AM BLIND” a voice shouts from where he has slid dramatically down the fridge in a ball of tears.

 “I’m pretty sure you’re not going to be blin-“

“I’M TOO YOUNG”

Sighing dejectedly Frank places a cold wet cloth against Gerard’s apparently blind left eye to shut him up.

“Can you stop acting like an idiot?” He growls out, dabbing the affected eye gently whilst placing a hand on the side of Gerard’s tear stained cheek, to keep his distraught face still until Gerard’s eyes flutter open, the crying and chanting of "I hate the kitchen" deceasing.

Letting go of the wet cloth, he allows Gerard’s red rimmed and tear stained golden eyes to watch his own, forgotten tears left to roll down his cheek. Frank allows himself to believe that he’s checking Gerard’s eye to make sure it’s okay as his own travel over the boy’s face – his skin is flawlessly soft beneath Frank’s calloused hand, long feminine eyelashes brushing his fingertips and pink bitten lips forming a natural pout - emitting innocence in the most dangerous way.  

Still, he reacts as if poisoned by the pale complexion by shaping a deep frown onto his face.

“Be more careful” he grumbles, tossing the now dry cloth in the direction of the sink and marching back into the living room throwing a much needed “idiot” over his shoulder as he does so.

Gerard decides he doesn't particularly like the kitchen.

He follows his new found hero out to the couch where he has slumped down, considerably exhausted from the hour long cooking session he was sentenced to.

Smiling brightly he sits down next to his bestfriend so that they're side to side on the spacious sofa, Gerard finds that Frank fidgets a lot when he does this and his tone of voice gets slightly higher in pitch as he tells - well, more like shouts - at Gerard to _never_ enter his personal bubble. Though, when he inquires as to why he does not have his own bubble Frank just shoves him away, doing this thing with his eyebrows which Gerard often attempts to imitate, but alas, cannot achieve.

A startled gasp is emitted from where Gerard is seated on the floor - as a consequence of being creepy - creating a break in Frank insistent frowning.

"This food" he trails off dreamily, eyes looking up to Frank like he's some sort of God.

He carefully holds up the bowl in both hands, the light from the TV conveniently shining down on the sacred spaghetti like some sort of revelation moment in a movie where the hero discovers the key to his success.

"What do you call this masterpiece?" The boy asks, placing a gentle feminine hand on Franks knee as if he needed to steady himself after all the excitement from the spaghetti hoops - they aren't even spaghetti hoops with sausages.

"Spaghetti hoops" Franks decides to play along. He doesn't ever get compliments on his cooking so God damn he is going to take what he can get - even if it is coming from the alien kid.

"Spaghetti hoops" he repeats in a whisper-voice like Frank told him a giant secret which is his duty to protect.

He doesn't understand Gerard. He supposes it could be the trauma from losing his parents that has gone to his head - or perhaps the boy just lived a terrible life prior to meeting Frank? But then his clean cut suits told him otherwise, Frank is no expert in clothes, but it doesn't take a Gok Wan to notice that material used on his jackets doesnt come cheap.-

"You're wonderful Frank" comes a sincere voice which then returns back to the highly appreciated dinner in his hands, resulting in Frank almost smiling - _almost._  


	9. I'm Tired and I, Want to go to Bed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will edit any typos etc tomorrow just thought i would get this up as soon as possible ! this story has no plan guys so i am literally winging it

The rest of the night wasn’t completely delightful. It turns out that Gerard just won’t go to sleep, which he wished he’d known before he spent ages pumping up the blow out bed for him courtesy of his mother’s basement. Frank put it down to the excitement of being in a different environment, as much like a puppy Gerard spent the entire time rushing around Franks room with so much excitement and adrenaline that Frank didn’t know any person below the age of twenty was capable to have.

From toiletries to his knick-knacks, Gerard was captivated by everything. A precise moment of the night that strikes his mind was when Gerard had finally chosen to give up looking through his kitchen cupboards to look through his underwear draw. The oblivious boy remained unembarrassed and just continued to inspect Franks underwear, pointing out which ones were his favourite to Franks absolute delight – only after shutting the draw did he ask what they were.

“It’s underwear Gerard?” he recalls saying, completely baffled.

“What is this underwear you speak of” he inquired, eyebrows knitting together in misunderstanding.

“Gerard I don’t have time for your jokes” was the end of the conversation, however much the boy seemed to be truly confused. Perhaps Gerard prefers going commando? He knows his uncle John sure does. But then again uncle John has a very bad case of Alzheimer’s and if asked, would probably reply that he would be fully nude if he could then proceed to laugh and slap Frank on the back as if it is a shared joke in which was both enlightening and enjoyable. Frank shuddered.

It simply seemed every bid to get Gerard to go to sleep failed. When he tried hot milk, Gerard spat it out in distress, claiming Frank was trying to kill him with ‘burny liquid’ – his words not Franks. Nevertheless, Gerard was increasingly suspicious of him after that and gave him the stink eye all night.

He also tried getting Gerard to watch a movie, almost always finding himself falling to sleep before the equilibrium. In addition he let Gerard choose the DVD – which admittedly was a regretful decision after he picked up a porn video Frank borrowed off Ray too long ago to remember. Now Gerard is either a budding nudist like uncle John or is just simply innocent. For peace of mind Frank went with the latter.

Confirmed, Gerard shrugged when told no, which Frank decided meant he didn’t know what the DVD was even with Frank’s incessant blushing. After a ton of shuffling through cases he proceeded to pick up Narnia instead which Frank frantically agreed to before the boy could pick up more sexually explicit material.

Gerard rejoiced in the invention that is the television transfixed on the screen to the point that Frank only had to push him away for being in his personal space twice, which he counted as progress.

But like any development, a downfall must occur which in this case consists of Gerard racing toward Franks wardrobe as the credits roll and shouting “to Narnia” with the enthusiasm of a child in a fairy tale. Frank doesn’t even notice he’s in the wardrobe for a significant amount of time, movies being to conduct of sleep and all. It’s only when he hears a loud thump from his wardrobe and realises Gerard’s presence next to him is non-existent and he figures watching Narnia was a mistake.

By that point it was 1am, Frank was significantly tired and resulting to what always worked for his mother – shouting. It wasn’t long before Gerard tumbled out along with a bundle of his clothes which he really wish hadn’t of softened Gerard’s fall.

“Look Gerard I have allowed you into my home and I have given you food, water and a place to sleep, I know it has been tough for you with the death of your family and all but–“

“My family aren’t dead?” he recalls Gerard answering, his voice soft from being frightened by Franks anger.

Time being dead, Frank decided the prospect of sleep seemed utterly ridiculous and instead countered Gerard’s question “then why aren’t you staying with your family?”

“They left me” he replied, awkwardly straightening that darn suit he had been wearing for almost three days.

Frank huffed out a long sigh, his previous argument seemingly demolished with sense of morale his personal space abruptly inhabited by the boy wearing a tedious frown.

“Are you mad at me Frank?” the strange boy questioned, looking into Franks hazel eyes with his own, biting onto his lower lip with teeny-tiny vampire teeth. The suit that was seemingly tailored for a pompous high earning man, seeming overwhelming on Gerard’s shrunken frame.

“No” he managed with only a slight eye roll.

Convinced, he ushered Gerard to his bed with the promise of not being angry anymore, briefly wondering whether this is what it felt like when an Olympian won a gold medal. Getting into his own bed, he sighed completely exasperated by merely one day of Gerard. On the Brightside, he’d least get _some_ sleep tonight he decided after consulting his clock to find it 3am.  

And he wasn’t wrong, he got about 10 seconds sleep before Gerard jabbed him with a sharp finger in his rib whispering frantically “Frank – Frank are you awake?”

His answer was a groan as he peered through the dark of morning daylight to Gerard currently sporting some questionable my little pony pjs. He supposed they were in the big bag of Hayley’s stuff she let Gerard borrow when she cautiously dropped him off; they are both reasonably small beings anyway so he supposes it figures.

“My bed is too hard to dream” a small voice sighs above him.

He sighs back at it. “Gerard I’m extremely tired as it is and you have no right to ask for more than you already have. You have already been enough trouble tonight can’t you at least lie down and be quiet for once in your life?” his patience all but lost.

“oh”

He hears his bare footsteps on the floor padding back to his blow up bed and feels like a considerably horrible human being. His mother always taught him to be nice to be giving and he supposed that taking Gerard into his home would be a big enough sacrifice, assuming more wouldn’t have to be made to fit the little jigsaw puzzle piece that didn’t belong with the set.

Making his last good act he walks over to Gerard’s bed himself the boys eyes pressed tightly closed in pretence for Frank. Leaning down on his knees he wraps an arm round Gerard’s soft warm middle and underneath his legs before picking him up tiredly admiring the feeling of a warm body pressed against his own as he wordlessly places Gerard in his own much more comfortable bed. Wrapping his marvel comic sheets around the boy he leaves him to inhabit Gerard’s cold and considerably hard blow up bed – perhaps he had a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hint hint cough cough comments are thoroughly appreciated - unless they r bad (lmao kidding)


	10. Ground Rules (Not Literally)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a while, I have a ton of work though with A2 studies and I never like putting up chapters that are crappy. This fic is becoming way longer than I anticipated, but I want to do it justice. However this is my first fic and i'm only just getting the grips of writing so really I just hope you find this story humorous as intended !

Frank is woken up that morning from a peaceful dream about walking his non-existing dog, Barry. Completely innocent to the incidents waiting occur.

Hearing a loud clatter of pans and a small giggle he slits a tentative eye open, not particularly wanting to see but knowing if he doesn’t get up in nought to ten seconds Gerard would’ve probably blown up the house.

But it looks like he’s already done it. Pans are splayed across pretty much the whole expanse of Franks floor – which okay, isn’t _that_ big but the concerning liquids inside the pans and on Franks floor are.

“What the hell are you doing?” He groans, pulling himself from the hard bed.

“Making you breakfast” he smiles - looking stupidly innocent whilst standing in the middle of what could be easily be interpreted as a battle field.

Tip toeing over various substances and appliances he manages to reach Gerard “So what exactly is that?” he frowns, pointing toward the most questionable looking substance in the kitchen.

“Scrambled eggs?” he mutters as if Frank is the one who has truly lost it.

“I’m pretty sure that is **not** scrambled eggs”

“Well that’s how your device here told me to do it” Gerard answers feistily, waggling Frank’s phone in front of him making Frank go cross eyed trying to distinguish what exactly this 'device' is.

Realising it's his phone he huffs in annoyance “My phone – told you? What?”

He nods confidently in reply, handing Frank back his phone which, upon observation, has been left on the screen used to make calls. The last call made to none other than Daisy, the girl who had not so long ago been receiving a text from Frank to confess he didn't like her in _that way_.

“Please don’t tell me you called Daisy” he prayed more than asked.

“I needed to ask someone how to make food - and you’re always talking to this quizzical device” He snaps, placing a hand on his hip.

“I’m not talking to the phone itself Gerard, I’m talking to people through it” He attempts to explain, the prospect of Gerard knowing what a phone is being slim.

“Well how comes I was able to talk to a flower then?” he arches an eyebrow in a competitive manner.

Frank shakes his head, momentarily wondering if he’s still dreaming.

 “I talked to Daisies” he explains slowly.

“Daisy”

“Yes, daisies” he repeats.

“No Gerard, her name is Daisy” he argues, trying to contain the urge to punch Gerard in the face.

“Oh! What a lovely name!” he smiles at Frank, earning a stern glare in return.

Gerard swallows visibly, picking up the smashed up eggs on the plate and holding it out to Frank as if it was some sort of peace offering, adding - “Scrambled eggs?”

“Ok Gerard, sit down” he sighs heavily.

Gerard looks around him with a slightly bewildered expression, having absolutely nowhere to sit with the lack of floor space. Figures.

Frank waves his hand at him in indignation.

“Look Gerard, if you’re going to stay here, there’s going to have to be some ground rules”

Gerard agrees enthusiastically to the floor.

“The first rule - absolutely no cooking” he lifts an eyebrow referring to the war zone surrounding him.

“Second rule,

No waking me up in the middle of the night” He begins to list off on his fingers.

 

“Third rule,

Never use appliances” Gerard hums in thought.

 

“Fourth rule,

Keep  tidy” he glares referring to the messy room. Gerard shrugging back apologetically.

 

“Fifth rule,

Do not use my phone”

 

“Sixth rule,

Do not get in my personal space” Gerard shuffles back an inch.

 

“Seventh rule,

No going through my underwear draw”

 

“Ninth rule,

Do not eat my pop tarts under any circumstance”

 

“And tenth,

Don’t ever get in my wardrobe again - you think you’ve got that?”

 

“Yeah-” Gerard nods, pulling a face of subtle acknowledgement.

 

Though it quickly tenses “Can you just repeat something for me?”

 

“What?” he rolls his eyes, apparently urging Gerard on.

 

“All of it” he timidly requests in complete confusion to the lengthy conversation Frank mistakenly woke up to have.

“You can’t be serio-“

But Gerard places his big doe eyes into Frank’s vision, the innocent creature caught under Frank’s headlights and he just can’t. It’s getting ridiculous. When Gerard falls flat on his face waiting patiently for Frank to pick him up – he just falls over too. He knows the guy means well and the sad excuse for scrambled eggs is evidence of this, he’s just concerned- he can't seem to appreciate Gerard's fuck ups as just a mistake a move on.

He gets the boy to clean up under instructions not interrupt him for at least ten minutes whilst he writes out a list of ground rules - considering they were more or less already forgotten.

He discovers the kid can be useful when he peers up from his list and see's the place is somewhat presentable again. Though the brown haired boy is its inversion.  

“Let me show you to the shower” he offers, feeling he has learnt his lesson – for today.

Following on Frank’s heels, he shows him to the considerably small bathroom that consists of; a toilet, sink and shower squashed so far together you could probably use all three at one time – but he wouldn't really advise it. The claustrophobic space results in his back being tightly pressed against Gerard’s front, a rule which Gerard can’t really help but to break in this situation.

He budges himself out the way so he can stand more to the side of Gerard in order to demonstrate how to turn on the shower, how to turn off the shower and how not to sing in the shower aka necessary skills he assumes Gerard lacks. “You got it?” he asks, eyes flickering between the shower and Gerard.

“Yes thank you Frank” he replies politely.

Convinced, Frank leaves him to get undressed. Hoping to all Gods that getting naked and washing censored parts of his body is something he can achieve alone.

Making approximately two steps away from Gerard’s last scenario, he enters another when a sudden scream pierces through his thought process.  

Bursting back into the bathroom, He expects to see a tangled in the shower curtain Gerard or a toe lodged in the facet Gerard. Not a half naked from waist up Gerard who's groping at Frank’s calloused fingers for comfort.

Eyes watering,  his grip on Franks hand strengthens to yank him impossibly closer in a room which already twines body parts as he whispers frantically into his ear “who’s that man Frank?”.

“What man?” He yelps, perhaps from how hard his hand is being squeezed, or perhaps from how Gerard’s full pink lips are brushing against the shell of his ear. But he’d never admit that.

Gerard tilts his head toward the mirror indicating where this supposed bathroom dweller lurks. “There’s no man in here” he concludes to Gerard after scanning the room for intruders –but Gerard’s story hasn't had its equilibrium yet.

He continues to tug on Franks possibly broken hand to the extent that Frank is bowing to Gerard from being half bent at the waist, two centimeters from Gerard’s agitated face to be exact. “In there” he points to the mirror, voice pitching higher with every word.

It dawns on him that Gerard is talking about the mirror. But his thought process is again ruptured by his phone abruptly ringing and making Gerard jump in shock, the way Frank did when he screamed.

“Why are you beeping!” Gerard lurches backward, suddenly repelled by Frank.

He moves closer to Gerard, who is currently one foot short of falling into the tub until Frank's large hand guides him by the waist and another covers his mouth to keep him silent.

 He hears what appears to be his own stressed voice saying “Hello?” having not looked at the caller ID he poses the question.

Gladly, he accepts the melodic voice of Hayley in his ear - a smooth improvement from the nasally speech of Gerard’s voice he has become accustomed to.

He startles at the knowledge that Hayley is coming over to drop off his mother’s present when his is probably still in a bag at the bottom of his wardrobe along with his recollection that it is actually his mother’s birthday _today_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE'S A REALLY COOL COMMENT SECTION BELOW MY CAPS LOCK WRITING COOL CHECK IT O U T


	11. Totally Platonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I never do summary's - but who would want a summary anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel this story is dragging slightly lol hope u like the update again i will be editing any spelling mistakes/making corrections tomorrow so this may change slightly but hey hope u like wanted to get up as soon as possible

Ok, so, maybe he's a bad son, but he has a lot to deal with what with his new roommate that is seemingly unaware of modern life as we know it.

He glances at Gerard who flashes him an expression crossed between confused and slightly scared. He decides to take advantage of this silence of speech by seizing hold of his small waist to lift the boy up placing him into the shower. Gerard blinks at the shower wall as if expecting it to give some explanation of how he transported from tile to tub without moving a muscle.

Franks shower instructions are gifted with an abnormal silence which he shrugs it off, knowing that having no reply is probably better than a long winded Gerardesque reply to which he could ponder for days to never understand.

Briefly, he shoves a spare hand towel over the mirror on his way to the door, deciding some issues can’t be dealt with all at once. 

Focusing on the important, he rummages through his wardrobe, cabinets and draws (notably the underwear section being abnormally organised) till present, scissors, wrapping paper and tape are all situated in front of him. Even though the majority of the tape ends up in his hair and oh his socks he counts the end result as a success.

“What is that?” a voice – Hayley’s – questions behind him from where he was previously admiring his handiwork.

“Abstract”

“Abstract is still meant to have structure”

He pauses considering this “Well maybe if you squint”

They both tilt their heads at the presents in unison, squinting at the patchwork present.

“Maybe if we put it in a bag?” She supplies

Frank hums in agreement mentally applauding his heroin best friend who puts the present into a far too fancy looking bag.

“Where’s Gerard” Hayley asks on notice.

He points to the bathroom or cupboard, however you may interpret it as said boy walks out as if on cue sporting a very questionable outfit. Now Frank is all for self-expression, but when the self-expression consists of wearing Franks towel like a toga with nothing underneath he thinks he has a right to judge. He slits his eyes at the squeaky clean stranger who he can smell from halfway across the room, which he bets is due to the boy using up all Frank’s shower products.

Hayley retaliates to Franks glare which he honestly didn’t realise he was pulling, figuring with the amount of frowning he has been doing lately, it has just become his natural expression.

“Why are you using my towel?”

“Would you rather I discard the garment Frank?” he asks, reaching his hand to the knot in the towel slowly like in one of those scenes from an old western movie when the cowboy reaches for his gun. Frank can’t help the only free movies he gets on TV are from his dads era.

“This is so going onto the list” he says, more as an aside than anything.

“No Gerard honey – it looks great – keep it on” she stumbles, Frank wondering when he became the one who just goes along with Gerard’s weird antics and Hayley became the one to refuse naked indecency.

Questioning “Wait – what list?” to Frank when Gerard’s hands stop from threatening to untie the towel.

“A list of ground rules” he states.

“Frank laminated it” Gerard supplies helpfully.

“Laminated it?”

“Laminated it” Frank agrees.

Gerard nods too.

Hayley joins in with the nodding - not knowing how else to answer - until they are all just standing there nodding at each other and wasting at least another five minutes in which Frank should be with his mum.

“We need to go” he says more to himself.

Gerard’s eyes widen to emote more. Frank feels like they are swallowing him whole. “Where are we going?”

“You’re not-“

“It’s Franks mum’s birthday, we are going to give her presents” Hayley cuts him off.

“Oh! I love birthdays!” He yaps, jumping up and down in excitement. While Frank ponders over whether or not you can get humans neutered.

He places a hand on Gerard’s bare shoulder to stop him before his towel falls down and scars their innocent eyes for all eternity. _Perhaps_ it could be agreed that Frank’s hand lingers there longer than necessary, _perhaps_ you could say Frank liked the feel of the soft white flesh grazing his calloused fingertips, and _perhaps_ you could infer that he liked the feeling of something fragile beneath his pulse from the way he gripped the flesh – _perhaps_ your reading too much into it?

Rubbing a hand over his eyes he addresses Hayley “do we have to?”

“Bring him? – Yes”

Dramatic pause with additional sigh.

“Unless you’d rather leave him alone in your house” she questions, raising an eyebrow which Gerard copies in attempt to persuade Frank.

“Okay, but only if he promises to act like a normal being” But they were already out the door by the word ‘okay’.

His mum greets Hayley first, probably suffocating in her highly perfumed Chanel sent. Then comes Gerard, who side steps Frank to greet her with a polite “Hello Mrs Iero, My name is Gerard” before kissing her hand like a true gentleman, causing an eruption of female cooing. He’s pretty sure his dad even awed at the boys manners. Frank could have good manners if he wanted to.

He attempts to slap Gerard’s hand away so he could exhibit these manners, but of course Gerard interprets it completely wrong and long story short he tangles their fingers together so they are now standing in the doorway in front of his parents, Hayley, their cat Squirrel and most probably old Mrs Stevenson next door (who’s truly the most nosy person Frank knows) holding hands. And that is exactly how Gerard and Frank become labelled as ‘boyfriends’ throughout the entirety of the evening.

Present giving, mum asks if Frank and his boyfriend picked it out. Frank informs her it is not his boyfriend.

Dinner eating, mum asks if Frank ever takes Gerard on dinner dates. Frank informs her it is not his boyfriend.

Late night TV watching, mum asks if his “boyfriend” would like to change the channel.  Frank informs her it is not his boyfriend.

The last straw is when Franks mum pulls out a classic parent move, showing Gerard baby pictures to Hayley’s absolute delight. Frank snaps.

“Gerard can I please talk to you out in the hall” he grits through his teeth.

Gerard follows him out the front of the house, leaving his mum still talking about Franks aversion to clothes as a child, not at all realising the lack of presence surrounding her.

“Why are you going along with this?” he shout-whispers when they reach the hall.

“With what Frank?” he questions, tilting his head to the side in question.

“Pretending we are-“ he gulps to try and rid the sick feeling “boyfriends” though it doesn't diminish.

“Well we are friends that are boys, we do not have female genitalia - that I am aware of” He frowns, eyes falling down to Franks groin.

“Eyes up here Romeo”

“My name is Gerard, not Romeo, we have already established this”

“God - what planet are you from” he fits the expression, wondering how much longer he will be able to put up with this goon for before he-

“Zylorp”

 

Frank falters.

 

 _Zylorp_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments would b cool spent a while writing this lol


	12. Mothers Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about yesterday. Basically, if you didn't know, I posted a chapter yesterday but reading over it I soon realised it was awful so I've re-written it and completely changed it and have managed to get it up in a day! Sorry for confusion

Frank decides there is only one thing for this, and that is to hold a mothers meeting.

It’s 8pm by the time he manages to pull Hayley out of his mums house, wishing her a final happy birthday, lock a docile Gerard in his cupboard which he explains to Hayley is for safety reasons and emergency call his friends to come over pronto.

Confused, his five friends gather in a disorganised circle looking at each other at random intervals concerned that Frank has finally lost it.

“Frank if this crisis you’re having is about you being pregnant, then congratulations I’m here for you but you should really use protection next time” Mikey laughs at Pete’s joke high fiving.

“Pete this is not funn-” Frank starts angrily only to be cut off by Pete adding “Oh here come the hormones” to hear Gerard give a light-hearted chuckle from where he has been locked in the cupboard.

“Why is Gerard in the cupboard?” Hayley frowns, probably assuming this is another of Frank’s shenanigans.

Ray’s mouth drops open and Frank rolls his eyes, no way is sitting through another interruption.

“Gerard’s an alien” he blurts, slightly insensitively.

The room drops to silence, only Gerard’s prolonged giggling breaking up the mute atmosphere, most probably still laughing at Pete’s joke.

Ray is the first to believe him which isn’t really that surprising. See, Ray watches numerous amounts of SCI-FI films so any chance he gets to reassert his belief in aliens he will take it. Franks even convinced that Ray would believe him if he exclaimed that a potato was from outer space.

The others aren’t so easily convinced, resulting in Frank having to pull Gerard out from the cupboard and admit it himself.

Hearing it from the source seems to satisfy them, the former silence being eradicated by obnoxious voices of excitement, wariness, confusion and Ray’s facts about aliens while Gerard situates in the middle of their circle smiling at Frank, with dimples. Completely unaware to the impact he’s caused.

His eyes flicker between Gerard and the rest of the group, currently in deep conversation slightly wary himself that the boy may cook and eat them at any second. Though he doesn’t voice this acknowledging it will only cause Ray to rant about how aliens are very docile creatures. He’s pretty sure he wouldn’t say that if he saw the movie Predator.

He hears a whistle amongst the noise, and immediately turns obediently to look at Hayley the cause of the noise.  

“So what the hell are we going to do?” she queries to the mass of greasy teenage boys.

Ray unhelpfully suggests that they should look after him, discover his fascinating culture and explore his intelligent mind – Frank zones out.

“Why don’t we take him out to like parties, he’d be a mega hit” Pete inputs while Ray still blabbers on about world peace and acceptance to our world in the background.

“Give him to a museum” Bob grunts.

Hayley furrows her eyebrows at the group surrounding her as if they were some sort of cult of teenage crack heads, possibly wondering when these beings became her associates.  As a last result she turns to her best friend with a look that Frank interprets as _you better help or I am literally going to throw myself off the leaning tower of pizza_.  

Now if Frank could have a light bulb appear over his head at this point in time, he thinks it well justified. “Surely we should help him back to his own planet?” he contributes acting the innocent when his intentions are anything but. Figuring quite plainly that with Gerard gone, he can reclaim liberty.

“And how would we do that?” Mikey inquires sarcastic tone ever prominent.

“Well we could hold him up like they do in the Lion King movie, you know, with the cub”

Mikey seems appeased by this.

But Hayley narrows her eyes, seeing through his transparent intentions. Yet considers his proposal, even with Frank’s spitefulness she realises the truth in it “I think Frank’s right guys -”.

“Makes a change” Bob adds.

“- It’s probably the most sensible thing to do” she sighs, previous words feeling foreign in her mouth – not fully wanting to accept the reality of it.

They all turn silent – even Ray – to simultaneously look at Gerard’s in his oblivious form wondering where exactly to start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg btw did you guys see the pics of gerard and mikey i was super freaking lol ?????????????comment pls???
> 
> ps I know its not leaning tower of pizza but how cool would that be


	13. Living In The Real World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is sosososososososososso late i have exams and i am sosoosososososo stressed, and thisis my first ever piece of writing yet im kinda getting sick of it already i dont know - hope you enjoy ?

The master plan to get Gerard home can’t be said to be having much - or if any, progress. The plan is as follows: locate where Gerard landed on earth and attempt to offer him back to his kin.

Now as simple as this may seem, no one knows where the hell Gerard arrived, including Gerard. So until the unlikely day when the alien remembers, we remain ignorant.

As for the meantime, Frank has the pleasure of teaching Gerard to fit in with an ordinary lifestyle routine as much as humanly possible. More like Alien impossible.

Day one of what he entitled ‘Gerard training’ was looking poetically optimistic on the outset. Frank woke to an empty room after having a fairly good night’s sleep, the sun penetrating through the slits of the curtains with the songs of the bluebird’s morning chatter creeping through the thin walls. It was all quite Balamory.

Reader, I ask from experience as it’s yours which intrigues – have you ever woken from an ideal dream to a slap-you-in-the-face kind of moment where what so annoyed you prior to falling asleep is still present when you wake up?

A soft purring sound resonating from Frank’s sofa bed is enough to make him feel entirely mournful – mournful of the upcoming days he is sentenced to waste.

He daggered his eyes into Gerard’s sleeping ones, and consoled himself that it _won’t be long till the strange, strange boy is gone._ He finds himself considering getting those exact words tattooed, being his only muse.

Frank figured he’d start of small – well you’ve got to learn to walk before you can run right?

So he decided on taking him to a small café Frank used to visit frequently with Hayley till she became so preoccupied with working. It was only round the corner, and he figured ten minutes of public exposure would be capable.

But sometimes starting small just isn’t small enough.

“What is that” Frank recalls remarking at Gerard’s shoe laces, currently tied together in a fashion that has rendered him incapable of moving.

“You told me to tie my laces” was Gerard’s smart ass remark.

“Not together” he huffed, spending the next half hour of what should be spent at the café attempting to untangle Gerard’s shoes, the boy may be rubbish at menial tasks but God did he know how to tie a knot.

On his knees the only part of him exposed to Gerard’s hazel eyes was the top of Franks head aka, his hair. He suspects the lack of contact with other beings brought Gerard to bring his hand to Frank’s hair and run his fingers through it - gently moving strands of black hair which formerly hung in his eyes with delicately pale fingers – but he couldn’t be sure, for he didn’t ask.

The bell rang above the café door as we entered, the same few customers scattered across lone tables which Frank usually situated. And he almost _was_ alone, Gerard acted as his shadow upon entering, completely void of his most usual participating self which he had become accustomed to.

When Frank asked oh so politely why he was being so shy all of a sudden, Gerard shrugged – notably twice and reached for Frank’s fingers timidly as a hatchling would it’s mother. Or so that’s how Frank interpreted the gesture as he interlocked their fingers, receiving a bolt through his pulse as the aliens hand lightly gripped at his own.

He places a wary look on Gerard, wondering if he had some sort of charming powers which bewitched Franks own blood to boil inside his chest. The thought sent a shiver through his pulse again, though it wasn’t from the abnormality of the situation for that he is certain of now. Though at the point in which he gripped Gerard’s hand with his own in the flitting sunlight through the fractured window he simply thought it was and effect from the air-conditioning.

He took Gerard’s hand – and Gerard’s self to a table farthest from beings, yet close enough to allow Gerard to interact with the real world.

“Any memories yet?” Frank inquired hopefully, ‘memories’ specifically referring to any recollection he may have over his arrival on earth, knowing the sooner he remembers, the sooner he departs. Beginnings circle back to endings.

Though the question of which he had frequently asked after the plan was implemented was wholly ignored with a redirect question “where are you from Frank?” Gerard asks to what Frank interpreted quite stupid, even at Gerard’s standards – he’d already been to his home – in fact he lived there.

“You know where I live Gerard” the forgotten palm of Gerard’s hand left to rest in Franks as the question became his focus.

A shadow of a line appeared between Gerard’s brows then, a look of mild distaste to Frank’s words arriving on his face much like one repeated as the food arrives on their table. The look appeared to Frank nearly as foreign as Gerard's own presence on earth. “Just answer the question Frank”.

Unsure of the burden of the question he toys with his reply as Gerard does his food, too absorbed in answering the strange question of an altered Gerard to inform him to not eat scrambled egg with his hands. “Well I come from London” he becomes the one to shrug.

“And?”

“It’s my home and it’s where I’ve always lived?” he questions Gerard’s back.

“Now, imagine you can’t remember your home, your family, your friends, the café round the corner, not a single recollection - not even a hint of knowledge, not even sure that you have a home – or that anyone misses you for you can’t even recall their faces” his tone turned sour “ask yourself how you would feel in my position, in a position in which you’re not even sure there’s any point of you remembering - when who is looking for me anyway?” he flings his hands up dramatically in to the air signalling to his possible family above “They’re evidently not trying, tell me, why should I?”

Frank’s reminded of a passage by Keats then ’This Melancholy London’ in begins, ‘souls of the lost are compelled to walk through its streets perpetually’. He feels Gerard would understand this the best, living in a world cast as an outsider if as an alien or not - many had become accustomed to it.

He realises then that he is still holding Gerard’s hand. Not even holding anymore – but lightly pressing against his own the way one would a fragile ornament. His eyes rivet from Gerard’s to glance over the delicate pale hands he has so long been holding, gentle beneath his own in comparison. He watches the bones ripple under the skin as he twitches in annoyance with lack of Frank's response.

What bewitches him next he isn’t sure. He supposes the very _human_ tear staining Gerard’s porcelain cheek convinces him to stoop slightly, and with the gentle hand in his own, he places his lips against the knuckles – briefly, sure – but long enough for the look in Gerard’s eyes to change – and Frank’s own to alter even though he is oblivious at the present as of why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment?


	14. In Which Frank Remembers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had a pretty scary alternative ending for this story but it just didnt make sense at all and it wasnt the direction i wanted it to go - so as always i have literally just gone with what popped into my mind and i kinda think i got a plan lol

No progress to find Gerard’s parents was being made by any member of the ASS (Alien Search Squad) – you can probably guess who came up with that name. Even though it wasn't what Frank really had in mind when he pictured them tracking down aliens like in Ghost Busters, everyone including Frank was too afraid to corrupt Gerard's innocence by informing him what ass meant. So they opted for the alternative and just tolerated Gerard referring to them as ass. In the end it was all harmless apart from those few times Gerard would shout ass at them in _public_ locations.

Frank snorts at the memory, finding it increasingly difficult to see such a sweet thing in such a sad place. It was like picking a flower and using it as domestic decoration – beautiful at first – but it soon withers in a glass vase – knowing it’s not home.

Frank tried his best to make Gerard feel at home. He put star wars on the TV on a constant loop, got out all of Gerard’s alien babies previously bought at the arcade along the windowsill like some sort of weird incubating facility.

Once, he tried talking to Gerard in alien (it was coming down to desperate measures, okay?). He gave Gerard his favourite meal of spaghetti hoops which never fails to lighten his mood and asked him to past him some toast in a language which turns out sounded a lot better in his head than it did out loud. Gerard gave him some weird looks for a few days after that - which Frank deemed slightly unfair as Gerard only adopted those looks from Frank in the first place - and made a pact with himself to never again ask Siri to help him.

Sometimes Gerard would curl up against Frank after dinner and get him to run his long tattooed fingers through his hair till the boy falls asleep in his arms - and in those times he truly thought he was making progress with Gerard.

But it was like Gerard had been replaced by someone even more alien – and Frank couldn’t even comprehend the mathematics of that. The alien was rarely ever sleeping – and Frank knew if he left Gerard, he wouldn’t even notice, but simply carry on watching the stars and dreaming of a home he’s not even sure exists.

On one of many of Gerard’s sleepless nights, Frank found himself watching the stars shining down through the cracked window glass. He knew Gerard wasn’t sleeping either; he never slept on the days the stars came out – it was he thought that if he stared hard enough into the black abyss of sky, his parents might shoot down from it.

“It’s not good to have obsessions you know” Frank said, referring to this new fixation.

“Everyone has their obsessions” Gerard whispered, eyes still trained on the black night.

He wonders when Gerard became so _human_ , Frank didn’t think he taught him to fit in that well – he wasn’t that good of a teacher, and he knew for sure Gerard wasn’t that good of a learner.

Though instead of pondering, Frank places his head on the pillow and promptly falls asleep. With dreams consisting of a drunken night, weed brownies, Pete the tree and a green beam of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also sorry for such a late update i just really couldnt think of what to write next cos im kinda going into this story with no plan but hey!!!! hope u enjoy and comment if u wish


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